


One Last Time

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breathplay, Demon Dean, M/M, Pining Dean Winchester, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knew he needed to get as far away from his little brother as possible once he woke up a demon. And of course, Crowley helped him escape. But things weren’t so easy. He thought about Sam constantly, and heard rumors that Sam was searching for him. Maybe… Maybe seeing him once would help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Time

Dean knew he needed to get as far away from his little brother as possible once he woke up a demon. And of course, Crowley helped him escape. But things weren’t so easy. He thought about Sam constantly, and heard rumors that Sam was searching for him. Maybe… Maybe seeing him once would help.

So, he snuck into the bunker one early morning, surprised to find Sam passed out on his bed, an empty bottle of whiskey and a broken glass on the floor. Quietly, Dean cleaned up the shards and got a second glass, laying it on the floor next to the bottle. He then stood in the shadows, tracing the outline of his prone brother with his eyes, trying to drink in the image, the beauty that was Sam Winchester. Even as a demon, the man took Dean’s breath away. The rise and fall of his chest, barely twitching arms and legs, like he was hunting, fighting, even in his dreams. Dean smirked a little, wondering what those legs would feel like wrapped around his hips… He shook the thought from his head and slipped out of the bunker.

It went on like that for weeks, Dean would sneak in, watch Sam sleep. Sam’s decreasing weight didn’t slip his attention, or the increasing number of nightmares. But there was nothing he could do, not really. He’d told Sam to let him go, it wasn’t his damn fault the kid never listened. So he just watched.

He began to come earlier and earlier each night, until one night, he arrived when Sam wasn’t even there. So, he stayed, against his better judgment, hiding in a room they barely ever used, listening for any sounds.

Sam stumbled in about two, drunk off his ass, managing to strip out of his clothes and fall on his own bed moments before his snoring echoed through the entire bunker.

Dean approached him, expecting just another night, watching and listening, until he noticed something odd in the low light of the lamp. He approached the bed carefully, listening for any sounds of Sam waking up. The sheet slipped lower down Sam’s thighs, and Dean’s breath punched out of his lungs. Between Sam’s legs was the telltale slick of lube and come. Dean would know that mixture anywhere, especially now, when sex was a motivating factor for pretty much every aspect of his life. He reached out, running the tips of his fingers through the mess, and Sam moaned above him, rolling more onto his stomach and opening his legs.

Sam’s hole was puckered and used, and the simple sight of it had Dean aching in his jeans. Unable to resist, he undid his own jeans, staring at his brother’s used ass. This wasn’t right, he knew, but he simply didn’t care. Maybe it was being a demon; maybe it was wanting this too damn long. That didn’t matter though, not when he straddled Sam’s hips, bare from the waist down, the bottle of lube he normally kept in his pocket fisted tightly in his right hand.

The first push, Dean met resistance, and Sam groaned softly, reaching back. He touched Dean’s thigh, his fingers curling over the flesh and   
moving up and down. Sam’s eyes opened slowly and he looked back, widening when he met his big brother’s burning gaze. “De—“  
“Shh, Sam. I’ve got you.” Dean pressed one hand between Sam’s shoulder blades, pushing a second time. The groan that ripped out of both of them when Dean finally slipped inside his little brother was pornographic. Dean leaned over Sam’s body, one hand curled around his neck, the other around his hip, as he began to thrust at a brutal pace, feeling the fluid from Sam’s previous fuck easing the way.

“Dean.” Sam rasped out, turning to stare at his brother, his face a mask of pleasure and disbelief. “Shut up.” Dean snapped at him, squeezing his throat. Sam coughed, surprised, but stopped speaking, instead focusing on the pleasure he was feeling.

Dean fucked Sam hard, not worried about hurting his brother or leaving a mark that would give him away. No, tonight was the night he’d let Sam go. With this, he’d leave and never return. Sam came with a shout into his own pillow, and Dean followed soon after, coating Sam with a fresh layer of come. He pulled out, getting off the bed and dressing without a word.

Only when he was fully cleaned and dressed did he look at Sam, who was half asleep, watching him. “This is a dream.” Sam whispered, his voice cracking a little.

Dean touched his finger to the tip of his nose. “Then kiss me.” Dean scowled. “Why?”

“Because you—The real you—Is gone. I can’t find you; I can’t ever actually have this with you. Please, kiss me, Dean.” Dean heaved a sigh and crouched next to Sam, leaning forward and kissing him hard. He nipped his bottom lip, pushing Sam’s hands away when he tried to grip his hair, the back of his neck, his shirt. He backed up when he knew Sam was getting too desperate, and rose. “Now shut your eyes.” Sam opened his mouth to argue, but shut it when he saw the look Dean was giving him. He sighed softly and closed his eyes, turning his back on Dean.

The next morning, Sam woke, hung-over and sore. He laid in bed for at least an hour, replaying his dream from last night. When he was sure he had to be a dream, he rose, dragging his body to the bathroom. He’d never give up on Dean… He couldn’t. He knew his brother was out there, somewhere, and he was going to find him if it was the last thing he did.


End file.
